


I Wanna Go Home

by moxie



Series: Holmesick [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Homesickness, Implied Torture, M/M, Michael Buble - Freeform, Minor Injuries, Policeman's Ball, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxie/pseuds/moxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade finds himself at the policeman's ball, minus his plus one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Go Home

 A/N: To make up for yesterday's depressing drabble here is some fluff.

    The annual policeman’s ball was something Lestrade had always hated attending, his ex-wife had never made the evening very enjoyable, always trailing behind him with a perpetual sneer. Except for the last two years of their marriage, when she’d actually talked to a few of his coworkers, and he’d stupidly thought she was trying to take an active part in his life, instead of finding someone new to go home with.

    He had thought that being with Mycroft would change things, and it had, he was now sitting with an empty chair next to him as Anderson and his wife tried to make everything look just peachy while Donovan shot them both dirty looks from across the room. Mycroft had been called away to take care of an emergency, grabbing his umbrella and decidedly not-dashing out of their flat with an apology, a kiss, and a promise to try and make it back in time to accompany the DI. That had been almost a week ago and he hadn’t had more than a few short texts from the politician.

    As the song progressed Lestrade could feel his mood sink lower and lower.

 _This_ _is stupid,_ he thought, songs like this didn’t usually affect him, make him stroppy like a lovesick teenager, he wasn’t even the one who’d taken off in the middle of the night.

_‘I’m just too far, from where you are, I want to come home.’_ _'_

_Sod it._ Lestrade was about to get up, go get his coat and return to his empty flat to wrap himself around his absent lover’s  pillow, when his phone beeped alerting him to a text message. He gave a halfhearted thought to ignoring it, but knew he could never ignore Mycroft, couldn’t even begin to try.

_I think Mr. Buble says it rather well, don’t you?_

    Lestrade stared at his phone for a moment, next thing he knew long and lean fingers intertwined with his. He looked over to see Mycroft had taken the empty seat beside him, a small smile pulling at his lips.

    “Gregory…”

    He looked Mycroft over and smiled fondly at the three piece suit, adorned with a blue tie that made the DI’s mouth go dry. Then he noticed the dark circles under the politician’s eyes, and a small, almost faded bruise on his left temple.  Lestrade let out a small sigh and stood, keeping Mycroft’s hand in his he led them towards the exit.

_‘It will all be alright, I’ll be home tonight. I’m coming back home.’_


End file.
